


Meet Me at Midnight

by idrownedallmysims



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Adrien saves the day, Aged-Up Character(s), Alternate Universe - Regency, Attempted Sexual Assault, BAD lila rossi, F/M, Good Chloé Bourgeois, Pregnancy, Regency Romance, XY's name is Xavier Roth lol, and julia quinn, inspired by lisa klepas, seriously lila rossi is straight up evil
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-05
Updated: 2019-10-30
Packaged: 2020-06-15 08:44:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 12
Words: 15,824
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19610425
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/idrownedallmysims/pseuds/idrownedallmysims
Summary: Marinette and Adrien experience love at first sight at a masquerade ball on the first night of her first season. She learns his identity, but he never learns hers.Almost a year and a half later, Adrien returns from France only to save his best friend’s sister in law from Lila Rossi’s latest evil plan.Trapped into a marriage with Marinette, Adrien starts to realize that his friendship with her is becoming something more. He starts to give up his dream of reuniting with the Ladybug he met at the party as he starts to fall in love with his wife.(AKA Adrien and Marinette are just as blind as they are in canon.)





	1. Chapter 1

“ _ Magnifique _ !” Tikki exclaimed as she pinned the last of Marinette’s dark curls back in an elaborate updo. “You have really outdone yourself this time, Marinette.” 

Marinette smiled at her lady’s maid through the mirror. “Thank you, Tikki. I wanted to wear something special for Alya’s first ball as Viscountess of Carapace and I think I’m pleased with the result.” She looked down at the handmade gown she was wearing and ran a hand over the fabric. It really was one of her best designs yet. She had taken a red silk gown and altered it with large circles of black fabric that looked just like a ladybug’s spots. The sleeves and hem were embroidered in black thread with designs of little flowers and ladybugs and she had added a wide black ribbon at the empire waistline to match. Marinette had worked so hard and for so long that she wished that it wasn’t a costume and she could wear it more often. 

“Are you ready for your mask? Madame Carapace will have your head if you are late to her party.” Tikki held out the black and red mask that Marinette had designed her dress around. 

“Is it that late already? She really will kill me… And you can still call her Alya!”. She took the mask and tied it behind her head. “I suppose I better go then.”

“Marinette! You’re forgetting your shoes!”

* * *

The Marquis of Noir stared down his glass of port as he listened to his cousin prattle on and on about the latest style of bonnets. He thought of Chloe like a sister, but if she was his only company for the night he might as well throw himself from the highest window of Carapace House. It was the first ball he’d attended since he returned from his three-year stay in Paris and he’d come to congratulate his friend Nino on his marriage. But Nino was currently occupied with some of his guests and Chloe was the only other attendee who didn’t see him as his title or bachelordom. 

“Adrien! Are you even listening to me? Do you prefer the white or blue bonnet with my eyes?” the blonde demanded, glaring. 

“Er.. Blue? I don’t know Chloe. Why are we talking about hats again?” 

Chloe scoffed. “This is why you don’t have a wife yet.”

“I don’t have a wife yet because I’m twenty-three, and  _ I don’t want one.” _

“Ridiculous. It is a truth something acknowledged, or whatever that droll Austen woman said. And it’s not like anyone here is interesting enough to make you want to get married anyway.” She rolled her eyes. “Besides me of course.”

He said nothing, so she continued. “Let me help you cousin. You certainly won’t find a wife here. The new viscountess’s sister, maybe, but she hasn’t even had a season. There is the Rossi heiress but- hey! Hello!”

Adrien drifted back to attention. “Are you done? Did my father ask you to set me up?’ 

“What? As if I would ever talk to him. He never liked me anyway.” 

“Can we just change the subject? I don’t want to get married.” He was bored now, and his glass of port was almost empty. 

“Fine,” she huffed. “But I’m still going to drag you to the season with me.”

Adrien just groaned. 

* * *

Marinette descended the staircase in wonder, marveling at hundreds of guests all dressed in bright, opulent disguises. It was the first party of her first season and she was optimistic and filled with excitement. Alya had found a husband in only one season and now that the viscount had provided her with a larger dowry she was hopeful that she would be married by winter. She scanned the ballroom in search of her sister and found her next to her parents towards the back of the ballroom. The crowd was growing thicker as more people jammed inside to escape the summer storm that started to brew outside. Her level of vision was at least a head below the top of the surrounding people and she made it about halfway before realizing that she was completely lost in the crowd. 

It was hot and she had to practically jump out of the way to avoid being trampled by a group of drunk men whose visions were further obscured by their large beaked masks. She misjudged her footing, however, and before she could catch herself she stumbled into the arms of a stranger. She looked up and realized with embarrassment that not only had she almost knocked him over, but he was also devastatingly handsome. His face was bare of any mask, but his head was adorned with two black triangles of leather placed to look just like cat ears. His clothing was black as well, from his necktie to his shoes. A black cat, she realized, in an exquisitely made tailcoat.

Even worse, when he realized what had just happened, he laughed. “Looks like you just fell for me, my lady.”

The woman next to him, dressed in a bee costume that Marinette  _ knew _ was beyond expensive, huffed. “Don’t pay any attention to him. He’s a scoundrel and a flirt with an awful sense of humor.” 

The stranger grinned. “ _ Je suis comme je suis _ , Chloe.” 

Marinette retorted before she could think to hold her tongue. “ _ Si oui, es-tu un homme ou une chat noir _ ?” 

The man blinked, staring at her with a newfound appreciation, and she felt satisfied that she had shocked him. Apparently, he hadn’t expected her to speak French. His companion, Chloe, laughed. 

“I told you that the cat costume looked ridiculous. That’s what you get for underestimating a woman, _ cherie _ . I’m going to get some champagne” She nodded once to Marinette in goodbye and disappeared in the direction of the refreshments, leaving her with Adrien. 

He cleared his throat, and his momentary look of shock was replaced by a cat-like grin. “You speak French?”

Marinette nodded. “My lady’s maid is French. She’s been teaching me ever since I was a little girl.” 

“You speak it well. I lived there for three years.” The orchestra played the first few notes to signal the start of a dance. Adrien held out his hand. “A dance, my lady?”

This was her chance, she thought. She had a spark with this man, a connection that just in the seconds she had known him he made her heart pound. She had fallen into a handsome stranger's arms like she was the heroine in a fairy tale. She took his hand as the other pairings made their way to the center of the ballroom

He took one of her hands in his and placed his other hand on the small of her back. 

“I’m afraid I don’t dance very well,” she said apologetically as she stepped on his foot. “I’m told I’m quite clumsy.”

“You’re perfect,” he whispered. “Er- I mean, just follow my lead.” His hand on her back gently guided her through each step. “See? Looks like you’re my purrrfect dance partner.” 

She sighed. “I hope you weren’t expecting me to laugh at that.” 

“That would be too easy.”

Marinette had never felt so much sensation in her life. He was leading her through all sorts of turns and spins, he was an excellent dancer. She could feel the heat of his hand through her gown and the smooth fabric of his coat underneath her hand. They were closer than decorum would allow -his face was only inches from hers- and maybe that’s why so many people were staring at them. She barely noticed anyone other than him anyway. 

Before she even realized, the waltz was over. Before Marinette had the chance to pull away and with what little propriety she had left thank him, he tightened his grip on her hand. 

“Dance the next one with me.”

* * *

“Tell me your name little ladybug.” He whispered in her ear as they finished their third dance together. 

“I believe that defeats the purpose of a masquerade, silly cat.” His lip twitched upwards at the nickname. 

“Please. I’ll beg if I must.” He took both of her hands in one of his and pressed them to his lips. Her stomach twisted in delight at the feeling of his breath through her gloves. 

_ This was it,  _ she thought.  _ This was her fairytale romance. She had fallen into the arms of a heartbreakingly handsome gentleman.  _

_ “Chaton…” _

He squeezed her hands in his. “Meet me in the garden at midnight. Please.” He kissed her hands once more, bowed, and they separated.

Her feet were sore from dancing and the ballroom was hot and crowded. Seeking respite, she escaped from the party and into an empty parlor. She had a feeling like she was standing on the edge of a cliff and about to dive in. It was both excitement and anxiety, knowing that her life could be changed forever tonight. She tapped her foot with nervous energy. Maybe she was about to be engaged. Maybe-

A woman stepped in front of her vision and Marinette blinked to bring her into focus. The woman was tall and slender, standing at least a head taller than Marinette despite being around the same age. She was beautiful too, every one of her features perfectly in fashion and her red hair thick and long. The woman stared down at her with her lips titled into a mischievous smirk. 

“Good evening,” said Marinette. 

The woman smiled a parlor smile that seemed so hollow Marinette felt like a snake was sliding across her skin. “I know most people, but I don’t seem to know you. I’m Lila Rossi, although you’ve probably already heard of me.”

Marinette shook her head. The name didn’t sound familiar. “I’m sorry, I’m unacquainted with the name. I’m Marinette.” 

“Dupain-Cheng? Like the family of the Viscountess?” 

Marinette nodded.

Lila paused for a second, her eyes narrowing. “Well, I’m sorry to bother you on such a  _ celebratory  _ occasion, but I wanted to warn you about the man you danced with earlier.”

“Pardon me?”

“Well, I just thought you’d like to know that he is Lord Adrien Noir, the future Duke of Agreste and that we are practically engaged.”

Marinette’s jaw dropped open. “W-what?” 

Lila laughed. “Of course. It’s very secret, so I’m sure he didn’t say anything. But we are very much in love.” 

Marinette had an odd feeling in her stomach- in her gut. Something wasn’t right. 

“I don’t believe you. I think.. I think you’re lying.”

Her smile dropped, green eyes becoming ice cold. She grabbed Marinette’s wrist so tightly that she gasped softly. “Now you listen. I am heir to the Rossi fortune and you are  _ nothing.  _ I will be the Duchess of Agreste, and I will  _ crush  _ you.” 

Marinette yanked her arm back, pondering how quickly she could get away from her and back to the ballroom. “I’m sure you believe yourself to be very important. But the future duchess’s identity is the Lord Noir’s decision. And if he has any judge of character, it will not be you.” 

Lila snarled. “You have just made a very big mistake, Miss Dupain-Cheng.” 

“I am not afraid of you.” Marinette tilted her chin up fearlessly at the taller woman. 

Lila’s eyes flashed as she formed a new idea. With a smirk, she grabbed the neckline of Marinette’s dress and ripped downward, exposing the petticoat underneath. She raised the torn piece of fabric up to look at it. 

“Honestly, you probably weren’t even worth my effort. But better to be cautious, no?” She dropped the ripped silk and walked back towards the ballroom, leaving Marinette alone and indecent in some random parlor room. 

Marinette looked at the clock. It was almost midnight, and she had no chance of making it out to the garden in her current state. Her eyes began to sting and she dropped to the floor. 

__

* * *

Somewhere in the distance, church bells rang twelve times. Midnight. Adrien looked around. There was no sign of her anywhere. Whatever was keeping her, he knew it must have been important. He would wait just a bit longer. 

  
  


The bells rang again at one. 

  
  


And again at two. 

  
  


When he heard the chimes of three o’clock, he decided that she wasn’t coming. 

  
  
  
  
  



	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The next year, at the end of the next season.

Her dance card was empty again. What a surprise. 

Marinette crossed her arms and slouched back into her chair in the corner of the ballroom. Another season was ending and she was still a wallflower. She couldn’t wait for the night, and subsequently, the season, to end. Hopefully, Nino wouldn’t force his friends to ask her to dance tonight- it was more humiliating than sitting alone. How did she fall from dancing with a  _ future duke  _ to sitting alone at one of the most boring balls this season?

Her eyes caught a flash of orange on the dance floor. Lila Rossi. She was the one who’d spread nasty rumors with such efficiency that every gentleman participating in the season wanted nothing to do with her. She barely knew what the rumors were even about, but they were obviously so horrid that no one bothered to make her acquaintance. She sighed and was about to go get herself a lemonade when a man walked up to her with a lazy smirk that made her uneasy. 

“Miss Dupain-Cheng?” When she nodded he continued. “I am Lord Xavier Roth.” 

Marinette recognized the name with some alarm. He was the son of some Baron, notorious for his general wickedness. If she recalled the gossip correctly, he was an infamous womanizer, gambler, and scoundrel. But, he was the only man besides her brother-in-law to speak to her that night and beggars could not be choosers. 

“Pleased to meet you, Lord Roth.” She attempted a little parlor smile. 

“Might I be so forward as to ask for the next dance?” He looked down at her, his blue eyes seeming to rake over her. 

She couldn’t say no, as much as she wanted to. So she rose and took his hand. He led her out into the center of the floor, drawing her much closer to him than was comfortable. The last time she had danced this close was…. no, she wouldn’t think about that night. She had promised herself she wouldn’t. 

The music started and they waltzed. Each step made her feel more uneasy. She looked away to avoid his piercing gaze as his hand drifted up and down her back inappropriately. In this case, the rumors were true, she decided. The dance ended and she stepped back hastily. 

“How about another go at it, hmm?” His hand stretched towards her. 

She attempted a small smile. “I am a bit tired, my lord. Perhaps another time.” His hand fell back to his side. 

“Ah. What a shame. I will take my leave then. For now.” She nodded and was about to make her escape to a quiet corner when the society around her started to flutter with excited whispers. Following the gaze of others around her, she turned to see a tall figure standing just outside of the entrance. 

The Marquis Noir. It was hard to see his face, but she knew it was him down to her bones. He was here, the man that made her heart leap into her chest just by the thought of him. Her heart couldn’t bear the thought of meeting now, at the peak of her humiliation. She was not the woman he danced with last season and it would mean nothing but more heartbreak to deceive herself with the notion that she could exist in the same circle as him. She squeezed through the crowds, intending to go find her sister but ending up at the refreshments table. 

One or two eclairs certainly wouldn’t make this evening any  _ worse. _

* * *

Adrien didn’t know why he attended the ball that night, but he went. Something deep inside him told him to go, and those voices are often right. He arrived late after a round of misfortunes including a broken coach wheel and an overturned cart on the road. He only had one friend at this ball a viscount who was sitting at a table with his wife when he found him. 

“Adrien! I didn’t know you would be coming tonight.” Nino stood up and gave him a hearty slap on the back. “Have you met my wife, Alya?” 

Adrien shook his head. “I was hoping to at the masquerade ball, but I was- er- otherwise distracted.” 

The short brunette at Nino’s side smirked. He could tell why his best friend had taken so quickly to her. She had a warmth to her, but laced with a hint of danger. Like a fire blazing in the hearth, he realized. 

“A pleasure to finally meet you, Lord Noir. I have heard so much about you from my husband, and my sister as well.”

“Your sister? I don’t believe that we’ve met.” Alya opened her mouth to reply but Nino cut her off. 

“Fancy a brandy, Adrien?” He gestured towards the hall. Adrien smiled and nodded, and Nino turned towards his wife. “Why don’t you find Marinette, dear? Then we might  _ introduce _ her to our friend here.” The couple shared a knowing look. Adrien shifted on his feet. 

“What an exciting idea.” Alya smiled, nodded to Adrien, and set off across the ballroom. The two men then weaved their way through the crowd of people, narrowly dodging the snares of ambitious mothers wanting to introduce their daughters to the Marquis. They ended up in a small parlor room across the hall, filled with men drinking sherry and smoking pipes. Nino immediately busied himself with lighting a pipe while Adrien leaned against the frame of the door. Adrien was halfway done with his glass of brandy when his ears picked up the faint sound of harsh whispers on the other side of the door. 

“You said she would be an easy mark, Lila.” It was a man’s vaguely familiar voice. Adrien would have leaned away from the door to avoid eavesdropping, but the men in the room had started up a droll conversation about the new fashion of neckties. 

“Well, I expected her to be. Pitiful, desperate girl. Don’t worry, she’ll beg for a match by the end of the night.” The woman’s voice, Lila, would have been melodic if it hadn’t come out in a sneer. 

“I need that dowry now. There’s a big night at the lunch club next weekend, and I can’t attend until I pay some of my debts.” Adrien frowned. Whoever these two were, they weren’t discussing anything polite. 

“Well Xavier, there is one way you could secure her and have your own fun doing it too. And it would get her out of my way…” Adrien stepped away from the wall. That’s who that voice belonged to, Xavier Roth. Roth was one of the slimiest little barons he’d ever have the misfortune to play cards with. Whatever he was doing it was certainly not good and Adrien didn’t have the patience to listen to the fool hatch plans about trapping some young girl into marriage. He finished his brandy, attempting to drown the nasty feeling the eavesdropping had left him. 

In the ballroom, Marinette and Alya had conquered a table by the buffet table. 

“Marinette, I have something to tell you. But you have to promise you won’t tell mama!”

Marinette raised an eyebrow. “Is there something I should be worried about?”

Alya grinned and shook her head. 

She gasped, her gaze dropping down to Alya’s stomach. “Wait- you don’t mean... How long?”

“Fourteen weeks. I want to surprise mama and papa later this month.”

“Oh, Alya that’s wonderful! I’m so excited!” Truly, she was. But there was a little part of her that reminded her that her sister was a mother now, and she wasn’t even engaged. Going by her luck these past two seasons, it was possible that she would never have the loving marriage that Alya had or even a marriage at all. Her excitement faded into hurt. 

“I think I need some fresh air,” she said, rising to her feet. She felt guilty, being sad during such a happy moment. 

“Marinette, wait. I’ll come with you!” Alya started to rise as well. 

She shook her head. “I’ll be fine. It will only be a minute. Please don’t stand up on my account, especially now.”

Alya sighed and sat back down. Marinette weaved her way through the ballroom towards the open doors to the terrace. The cool air greeted her immediately as she walked outside, drying the little beads of sweat that had begun to form inside. There was nobody out here, since it was so early in the night and there were only a few people who had already grown tired from dancing. Marinette took a deep breath. It was peaceful and quiet out here, the only sounds the muffled music and chatter from the ball and the melodies of the frogs in some nearby pond. She was safe from the looming inevitability of spinsterhood, unnerving barons, and the stares of those who believed Lila’s lies. She closed her eyes and imagined she was back in the garden of her family home in the country.

The sound of footsteps broke her from her dreaming. There must have been a breeze because a chill crawled up her spine and left goosebumps all over her arms. It was probably some stranger who wouldn’t even notice she was there, she told herself and tried to relax. 

Too large hands enclosed around her shoulders and she jumped, whirling around to face the man who had touched her so indecently. 

Xavier Roth’s face smirked down at her. 

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh NO. I wonder what's going to happen next? I told myself that I would write two chapters ahead of each chapter I post but BOY was this a long one. Kind of boring, but necessary. 
> 
> Sidebar: what the guac was the last two episodes we were given? VIPERION? MARINETTE KISSING ADRIEN?


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> TW: attempted sexual assault.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I already uploaded this chapter, but I changed my mind about a few things so here is the updated version. Sorry about that.

“L-Lord Roth. What a surprise.” Marinette smiled, trying to mask her panic. Lord Roth wasn’t even looking at her face. His gaze was fixed on her chest, still heaving from the initial moment of panic. 

“Don’t play coy, Marinette.” He drawled, her christian name rolling off his tongue like a snake shedding his skin. His grip on her shoulders tightened. “I know what you need.”

She looked around, realizing with horror that they were alone on the terrace. Lord Roth started slowly leading her down the steps and towards the garden. “I don’t know what you mean,” she said indignantly. 

“You need a husband Marinette. You’ll be a spinster by the end of next season. I have a title and land. I’m your best option.”

Marinette said nothing. She was too busy trying to figure out the best way to escape the baron without any conflict or scandal. 

“...And in return, all I want is your dowry. You’ll have some children, I’ll have some mistresses. Come on, love, don’t act so shocked. That’s how half of marriages today work.” They stopped in a quiet little area, secluded by tall hedges. 

“Lord Roth, I really must be getting back. My sister is looking for me.” 

“Good. Maybe I want everyone to see us, hm?” He leaned down and pressed his lips against her cheek. The stubble on his chin scratched her lower jaw and she squirmed. 

“Lord Roth, let me go!” She struggled against his hands, but they held her firmly in place. He looked…  _ amused _ at her distress. Marinette realized what was about to happen. “Please… you can’t.”

“Calm down, Marinette. You might even enjoy it. Truthfully it’s the only way I think I can force you to marry me.” He was pressed against her from behind now and the smell of his cologne was sickening. His hands slid to the front of her chest and she whimpered. 

“I’m begging you,  _ please.” _

He chuckled, and tugged down the fabric on her shoulders. She felt frozen, like a statue as he pressed his lips to the curve of her neck. Marinette sqeezed her eyes shut and a hot tear slipped down her cheek. His hands moved to her waist, still gripping her tightly, and he turned her to face him. He lifted his hand up to her cheek, wiping away the tear. She realized that her hand was free and with a battle cry, she curled her hand into a fist and swung so hard her hand ached when it made contact with his face. 

He staggered back, blood starting to drip from his nose. “You bitch!” He growled, advancing on her with a terrifying look of unbridled rage and fury. “You’ll pay for that!” She turned to run but he had already seized her, gripping her arms hard enough that his fingers dug painfully into the muscles of her upper arms. She cried out again as he slapped her, throwing her to the ground. She shut her eyes again, unable to watch what he would inevitably do next. 

There was a loud crack and then a thud. She opened her eyes. 

Adrien Agreste stood over Lord Roth, shaking his right hand. Roth was on the ground, groaning. Both were facing away for her and she scrambled back, pulling the neckline of her dress back up. Adrien turned towards her and rushed forward. She flinched and he paused. 

“Bloody hell, are you all right?” 

Marinette just stared, her eyes wide. 

“Right. Of course you’re not.” He knelt down to the ground, stretching out his hand. “Here, I won’t hurt you and Roth won’t be getting up any time soon.” His mouth was drawn into a tight line, but his eyes were kind with not even a hint of pity. She inched towards him and took his hand. “That’s it. Let me get you up.” He pulled her up, grabbing her arm to steady her. She flinched again and he loosened his grip. 

“Thank you,” she whispered. He nodded.

“Marinette? Oh God!” Alya stood behind Adrien, her face as white as ash. Her eyes darted from Adrien to Marinette, and to the motionless Roth in the dirt. 

“Alya! You can’t just run away like th-  _ oh.”  _ Her husband stepped into view, his eyes widening. “Adrien?”

Alya ran to Marinette, enclosing her in a bone crushing hug that made Marinette wince. “What happened? Oh, your dress is ripped in half!” She looked down at the torn bodice of her dress and back up to her sister. “Did Lord Noir…” Alya turned to Adrien with a look of fury that would have made Mars run in terror. 

“No! He saved me.. Lord Roth…” Nino stepped towards Adrien, his brow furrowed. Adrien stared back at him, the two communicating silently. Marinette sniffed, refusing to cry. 

“Take her inside, Alya” Nino said finally. “Through the servant’s entrance. Don’t let anyone see.” Alya nodded and took Marinette’s hand.

“But.. Wait- What about...?” Marinette whispered, pointing to the man on the ground. 

“I’ll take care of him.” Adrien’s voice was calm and steady, each word coming out carefully controlled. His hands were curled into tight fists at his side. It was hard to read him. His eyes were flat and opaque and his chest rose and fell in an even rythmn. 

“Come on, Marinette. You need some ice.” Alya lead her towards the house. Marinette turned back, taking one last look at the three men before they disappeared behind the hedges. It was only when they were safely inside the house that she broke down into tears. 

____________

Adrien’s fist slammed into the face of Xavier Roth. 

  
  


The man had just barely gotten up before Adrien had knocked him back down. He looked over at Nino, who had been pacing silently up and down the path. 

“I’d kill him if he was worth my time,” Adrien muttered. Nino said nothing and continued pacing. The blonde looked back down at the man sprawled out on the ground beneath him in disgust. “Your sister-in-law. Is she okay?” 

“My wife is taking care of her. Marinette’s- well all of the Dupain-Chengs are strong.”

“What should we do with _him?”_ Adrien asked. Nino stopped pacing, looking over at the unconscious baron with a scowl. 

“Just leave him here. He’ll wake up soon. Is your hand alright?” He looked at Adrien’s hand, which looked angrily red. 

Adrien nodded. He wasn’t a stranger to the occasional fistfight. His hand was sore, but it would fade soon. Everytime he looked at it he saw the panic in Marinette Dupain-Cheng’s eyes. He’d punched men for worse reasons. “I’d like to talk to her and figure out what happened.”

Nino agreed and they made their way back to the house. He could hear the last long notes of the final dance coming from the ballroom. He imagined all the people flitting about inside, so concerned with the frivolity of London life that none of them had looked out the window and seen the horrors in the garden. It was unfair to blame them, but it still irritated him. If Adrien hadn’t been attempting to escape an embarrassingly bold Italian heiress, he doubted he would have gotten to Marinette in time. They entered a small room in the rear of the house where the Dupain-Chengs were seated at a plain wooden table. Adrien would have never guessed they were sisters just by looking at them. 

Marinette was cradling her hand close to her chest. Her cheek was swollen and red, the mark standing out harshly on her fair skin. She reminded him of someone, but he couldn’t put his finger on it. Adrien stepped towards her and this time, to his relief, she did not flinch away. 

“Can I see your hand?” She held it out to him and he examined it. It was swollen, and her knuckles were starting to turn blue. His jaw clenched and he took a sharp breath to prevent himself from storming outside and punching Roth until his jaw was split in two. “You must have really done a number on him.” Marinette’s lip twitched in an involuntary smile and his heart leaped. She didn’t look fragile, as he had expected. She looked like a little warrior, still holding herself tall after everything that happened. She blushed and looked away, and he realized that he was staring. 

“Thank you, Lord Noir.” Her small hand squeezed his.

He brushed his thumb over the point of her knuckle in response. Marinette turned to Alya, who was watching the two of them intently. 

“Can we- Can we go home?” She asked, drawing her hand back to her side. “I don’t know what will happen to me now, but I’d at least like a good night’s sleep.”

Adrien straightened, dusting off the collar of his tailcoat. “I should head home as well. I’ll see what I can do to help the whole situation.” 

“Wait,” Marinette said quietly. All three heads turned towards her. Adrien paused, looking at her inquisitively. “Will you come with us? It’s silly but… “

“It’s not silly,” Adrien interjected. “Anything you need.”

  
  



	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marinette has trouble sleeping.

Marinette couldn’t sleep. The comforting darkness of closed eyes now swirled with leering smirks and the sound of a ripping gown. She rolled out of bed, her bare feet touching the cold floor. What time was it? There was no clock in her room, and the moon was obscured by the dark clouds of a thunderstorm rolling in. She lit the candle by her bedside and the room was partly filled with its warm light. Grabbing one of the quilts on her bed and wrapping herself up in it, she donned her slippers and ventured out into the hallway of her sister’s townhouse they were staying in for the season. 

There was a crack of thunder, and lightning lit up the long hallway. She wasn’t afraid of storms. They reminded her of humid august nights staying up late playing board games and cards with her family, a tradition that had held up even after Alya had married and moved away. She wondered if her parents were playing without her, blissfully ignorant of what had happened to her earlier in the night. It had been her decision not to tell them what happened. She loved her overprotective father, but he was getting older. He had problems with his heart, and the news would send him into such an uproar that her parents would risk their health and rush to London. Anyways, the fewer people that knew, the better. 

Another roll of thunder shook the house, and her candlelight flickered. She decided to head to the library, maybe read a book on fashion or dress-making. Her family was secure- but not wealthy, and if she wanted a fashionable dress she made it herself. She had made the one she wore last night. Her mind flooded with images of the rip down the bodice and she shuddered. 

Strange- the door to the library was cracked open, a soft ray of light shining through the opening and into the hallway. The door opened with a soft creak, exposing the figure of a man hunched over a writing desk. 

“Nino?” She whispered, although her voice was drowned out by another clap of thunder. No, not Nino. Her sister’s husband had short, almost black hair. This man had blonde hair that practically glowed in the candlelight. It was Lord Noir. She squeaked, and made to retreat back into the hallway, but instead tripped on her slipper. Her candle tumbled out of her hand and flickered out, making a loud clunk when the metal handle hit the floor. 

“Who’s there?” His voice was rough and cracked with disuse. Adrien turned towards her, squinting into the shadows. “Marinette?” Marinette nodded. “I can’t see you, step into the light.”

“I can’t. I’m not. I’m just in my bedclothes.” 

“Oh.” His cheeks turned scarlet and he scratched his head. “What are you doing awake?”

“I could ask the same of you,” she deflected. She didn’t want to say that she was haunted by the memory of Xavier Roth’s sickening smooth voice whispering in her ear. 

“I.. Well, honestly I don’t really care for thunderstorms. Bad memories.” 

She couldn’t imagine a man as strong as Lord Noir being afraid of thunderstorms. She bit her lip, and forgetting herself, stepped towards him. 

His gaze fell on her, and she drew the quilt tighter around herself. The nightgown she was wearing was in no way revealing, and almost covered her from head to toe. But still, it was her  _ nightgown _ and he blushed again. 

“I can sit with you,” she said. “If it helps.”

He shook his head, his blonde hair falling forward into his face. “You don’t have to do that.” 

She shrugged and pulled up a chair across from him. “I want to.”

He didn’t reply, and instead lit another candle and offering it to her. She set it down beside her and picked up one of the books on his desk. “ _ A New System of Chemical Philosophy?”  _ She read incredulously. 

“I like to study science. I’m not a scholar but I think that all things should be able to be explained.” She set the book back on his desk. She was educated as any other woman was from a genteel family, but definitely not educated enough to understand anything in that book. 

Suddenly, a large boom of thunder rolled through the house. Adrien’s hands clenched into fists so tightly that his knuckles turned white. Marinette pushed down the odd urge to grab his hand and comfort him. “They must be some pretty bad memories,” she said instead. 

“My mother died in a storm.” 

She wasn’t expecting that. She reached across the desk and patted his hand once. It was improper- everything about this situation was, but it seemed to relax him. She didn’t regret it. 

Maybe… Maybe she could tell him who she was. That she was the girl he met at the masquerade ball a year ago. He didn’t seem like the type to believe Lila’s lies, and he was kind to her. The words were at the tip of her tongue.  _ It’s me. The ladybug from the ball. Can’t you remember?  _ But the words never came out. She was scared, she realized. Scared that he would reject her, or that it would ruin one of her happiest memories. Whatever it was, she said nothing. 

The storm passed quickly, and when the last rumbles of thunder faded out in the distance she picked up her candle and a book about seam work. 

“I should go,” she whispered. 

He nodded and stood. “Let me walk you back to your room.” They walked silently down the hall together. Marinette tried to study the portraits as they walked past or the pattern of the carpet under their feet. Anything, to avoid thinking about how Adrien’s hand accidentally grazed her arm as they walked down the hall. They stopped outside of her bedroom and her hand paused on the doorknob. 

“I know I already thanked you for what you did today. But, I just wanted to say it again. You’re a good person.”

Adrien smiled softly and his green eyes seemed to glow. “You’re a good person too, my lady. You didn’t have to keep me company tonight.”

She smiled back at him and entered her dark bedroom. “Goodnight.” 

“Goodnight.” 

She closed the door, waiting until she heard his footsteps fade into silence. When she was sure he was gone, she slumped against the door and slid to the floor. Her head was filled with daydreams. Maybe tonight wasn’t the moment to tell him who she was. She would wait until the metaphorical storm around Lord Roth was over and things would go back to normal- _ then  _ she would tell him, and the fairytale would continue. 

Yawning, she carried herself into bed, pulling the covers around her. This time, her thoughts were full of cat ears and midnight promises, and she slipped into a soft, dream-filled sleep. 

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! Happy Friday everyone! This chapter was so so sweet to write, especially after I had some writers block earlier. Let me know what you think! 
> 
> FYI... I will be posting sneak peeks of each chapter on my Tumblr... https://idrownedallmysims.tumblr.com


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Carapace House receives an unexpected visitor. Adrien makes a surprise announcement.

The next few days passed uneventfully. Adrien didn’t mention the library, and neither did she- the wrong interpretation of that night could be  _ scandalous.  _ There were moments, though, when they locked eyes at dinner or passed in the hallway when the corner of his mouth twisted upwards in a little smile. These short moments replayed constantly in her head and never failed to make her smile. 

“What are you smiling about?” Alya asked over breakfast one morning. Marinette didn’t dare glance over at Adrien, so she stared down into her eggs. 

“Oh, just… a dress idea.” 

Her sister raised an eyebrow but said nothing else. The conversation shifted- Nino and Adrien were talking about some stag hunt coming up in the countryside that Alya was condemning (her exact words were “a pointless show of masculinity that would be freezing and idiotic”). The friendly banter filled the dining room.  _ This is a home,  _ thought Marinette.  _ This is a family.  _

The servants carted away breakfast, and the four parted again to go about their individual tasks. Marinette had decided to cozy up with her embroidery in one of the sunnier sitting rooms overlooking the road. It was her favorite room of Carapace House and in her expert opinion, it had the most comfortable sofas. The view was spectacular too- she could see all of the passersby moving about their day. 

One of the coaches pulled up in front of Carapace House. It was closed and had no crest that she could see. Curious, she set down her sewing and moved to the window. The coach didn’t look particularly expensive, so it could be a delivery or maybe even a higher-paid servant. A tall man stepped out, face and hair obscured by an obnoxiously large tophat. A shorter man with a balding head followed after, looking vaguely familiar. 

The younger man lifted his head up to examine the townhouse. Marinette’s heart fell into her stomach and she jerked away from the window. What was Xavier Roth doing here? She took a deep breath, trying to keep herself from hyperventilating. Whatever he was doing, it was surely something cruel. 

Twisting her fingers into the skirt of her dress, she peeked her head out of the doorway of the sitting room. There was a knock at the door, although she heard it faintly. She crept through the hall towards the stairs. 

“You have a lot of nerve coming here,” her sister said. Marinette was surprised at the coldness in her voice- she had never heard her sister like that. 

A rough, unfamiliar voice responded. “This isn’t any business of yours, darling. Where is your husband? We have an important discussion to have about your sister.”

Marinette grimaced. Whoever this man was, clearly had no idea what mistake he just made. She could imagine the angry flush starting to spread across her sister's cheeks. 

“I would like to remind you, Lord Roth, that I outrank you, in both title and apparently intellect. Whatever you need to say to  _ my  _ husband about  _ my  _ sister can be said to me.” 

There was an angry pause of silence, and she crept along the hallway. She could see the bannister of the stairs from around the corner now… 

“Umpgh!” She collided into a tall, dark object and was thrown onto her bottom. She rubbed her eyes and realized that the object was, in fact, a door, which had been suddenly opened by Lord Noir. He turned and his eyes widened. 

“Marinette?” He asked loudly, offering his hand. She took it, and he pulled her up. “What are you doing creeping through the hallways?” Before she even opened her mouth to answer him, the younger Lord Roth yelled from downstairs. 

“Miss Dupain-Cheng! I hear you up there! Come downstairs.” 

* * *

Adrien watched Marinette’s skin turn from a flustered pink to a terrified white at the sound of Lord Roth’s call. She started towards the stairs again and he reached out and caught her arm. 

“You don’t have to go down there Marinette.” 

“I’m not a coward,” she said quietly, her voice as sharp and fragile as broken glass. He felt her tremble underneath his hand and he let her go. 

“I’ll go with you.” 

They walked towards the stairway together. Marinette’s pale hands curled into fists when the reached the top of the stairs. The Baron, his son, and Lady Carapace all stared at them from the bottom floor. Xavier Roth was sporting a nasty looking bruise on his eye, Adrien observed smugly. Marinette descended the stairs first, grasping the bannister so hard that her knuckles turned white. Adrien could only stare. Most women he knew would be throwing themselves down in tears or fainting, but she had the stature of a warrior going into battle. He looked at Lady Carapace, who held herself similarly. They were a strong lot, for sure. 

He wasn’t sure if he would be able to restrain himself if Lord Roth said anything other than a profound apology. Although, knowing the bastard, that was probably the least likely thing he would do. Adrien tried to smooth his face into the bored, unemotional mask that was expected of every high-bred gentleman. If he couldn’t control his expression, there was no chance of controlling his fists. 

“Ah. Miss Dupain-Cheng, what a pleasure” said the old baron, with a mocking little bow. The senior Lord Roth was almost as bad as his son, Adrien realized. 

Marinette said nothing and stood next to her sister, who bristled with irritation. “What do you want, my lord?” Lady Carapace asked sharply. 

“Isn’t it obvious?” Xavier stepped forward, the corner of his mouth twitching upward into a smirk. Marinette stiffened, and Adrien flexed his fingers at his side. “I’ve come to ask for your hand in marriage.”

Marinette recoiled, and before Adrien could even blink she slapped Lord Roth with enough force to turn his head sideways. Roth righted himself, touching a hand to his cheek with an almost smug expression. 

His father cleared his throat. “I think you would do well to consider the situation and our most generous offer. You are a fallen woman now, you have had indecent relations with my son, and we have come to make things right.” 

Marinette turned to him, bewildered. “He forced his relations on me!”

The baron shrugged. “Inconsequential. I have the witness of several servants saying that you accompanied my son alone into the gardens, and returned in a state of undress.”

“You can’t be serious,” said Lady Carapace. “I’ll have you thrown in jail for what you did.”

“You could,” the younger Roth said. “But the rumors have already spread that your sister is no longer an innocent. And there is already a bit of nasty gossip withstanding. She will be an outcast- unfit to even interact with innocent children.” 

Marinette gasped, her hand flying to her throat. Adrien could see the force of Xavier’s words hurting her. He was shocked himself- Marinette would be amazing with children and an especially good mother. 

“You have no other choice,” said the senior Lord Roth.

An unseen and internal force seemed to push Adrien forward. He stepped between Xavier Roth and Marinette. “Actually, she does. She’s my fiancée."

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> aahhhhh. aaaaaahhhhh. AAAAHHHHH! Adrien's wildin out here! Poor Marinette- she hoped the thing with Xavier was over. And Xavier is correct- even if an unmarried woman is forcibly touched, she was still considered unclean and wasn't allowed around children during this time period. An outrageous social code, but such were the times. 
> 
> Tumblr: https://idrownedallmysims.tumblr.com


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marinette comes to terms with Adrien's announcement. Alya discovers where Nino has been the whole time.

Did… Adrien just say what she thought he said? 

She could be wrong of course, there are lots of words that sound like fiancee- like away or Friday. Although,  _ she’s my Friday  _ makes even less sense than  _ she’s my fiancée.  _

She couldn’t see Adrien’s face since his back was turned towards her as he confronted Lord Roth. She looked over and locked eyes with a confusingly amused Alya. For goodness sake, why did she look like she was trying not to grin? This was a very serious situation and… 

Marinette couldn’t help the little giggle that escaped her throat at the absurdity of it all. Lord Noir- her _chaton_ and the future Duke of Agreste- was claiming to be her fianceè. At the sound of the giggle, Adrien turned around to look at her with a stern look. 

_ Play along,  _ he mouthed. She nodded, sobered, but still in complete disbelief that this was happening. 

“Miss Dupain-Cheng,” The older Lord Roth grumbled. “Is that true?” 

Marinette paused. She was a terrible liar, and the stakes were now the highest they’d ever been. Her future, her whole well being for the rest of her life suddenly balanced on the cliff towards total despair. “Yes. Lord Noir and I are engaged.” She met the gaze of the older man. “To be married.” 

The smirk on Xavier Roth’s face faded for a moment. Marinette inwardly cried out in victory. He looked over at his father for direction and the Baron continued. 

“Alright,” the baron grumbled. “Engaged, eh? I know your father  _ boy,  _ you’re in no position to taint the family line for a fallen woman.” Adrien stiffened at the mention of his father. 

“My father has no power over me,” Adrien said acidly. 

“If you believe that, you’re a fool.” The baron chuckled, turning to look at his son. “We will return in a fortnight and my son will claim what belongs to him. Your lies will fall through by then.” 

Adrien opened his mouth to protest, but the two already had turned towards the door. Xavier turned back as they left, locking eyes with Adrien. 

“Until then,” He said, his eyes lighting with the promise of cruelty. “Enjoy my damaged goods.” He snorted and followed his father through the door. Adrien’s features shifted into rage and he began to rush after them. Marinette squeaked and threw herself in front of him. 

“Marinette, get out of the way.”

“Adr- Lord Noir,  _ please _ ! He’s just baiting you.” Marinette stood tall in front of the infuriated man, arms stretched out to the side. He looked down at her, finally ripping his gaze away from the departing men, and his face softened. 

“He insulted you.” 

Marinette shook her head. “It didn’t affect me. They were just words- untrue words. I’ve learned to deal with them. Please- don’t let it affect you.” He visibly relaxed and Marinette blew out a sigh of relief. She looked over at Alya, who was glancing between her and Adrien with an unreadable look. “I think we have some things to discuss.” 

Alya nodded. “That was quite- Nino!” The three stared at the Viscount, who emerged from the kitchen with a cheek filled with biscuits. “Is that what you’ve been doing while Lord Roth was attempting to kidnap Marinette?” 

Nino’s eyes widened, and he hastily swallowed the food in his mouth. “ _ What?”  _ He looked at his furious wife, then to Marinette and Lord Noir. “I was in there for ten minutes! These biscuits you cooked Marinette, they’re so delico-” 

Alya smacked him on the head with her fan, and he turned red. “Biscuits?! Marinette and Lord Noir are  _ engaged.”  _ Nino’s gaze whipped back to Adrien, who shrugged. 

Marinette turned towards Adrien. “You’re not really going to marry me are you?” A part inside of her, the silly romantic part that she was constantly having to squash, yearned for him to say yes. The thought of him as her husband wasn’t even something she had the gall to dream about. But, she had to be realistic. She was not duchess material, especially now. 

The corners of his mouth twitched into a lazy grin. “Why, don’t you think I’d make a good husband?” His tone was playful and casual. Marinette felt her cheeks go warm as the possibility of marriage to him swam momentarily into her imagination. She pushed the thoughts away with a frown. He must have noticed her expression and he quickly added “I don’t know. It doesn’t seem like you have any other option.” 

That was true, she realized. If she didn’t get married to someone soon she’d have to live as a pariah. “But you still have options. Why would you throw your life away just to save me from an unfortunate situation?” 

His grin faded. “I wouldn’t be throwing my life away, Marinette. Don’t tell me that you think that lowly of yourself.” His voice was quiet and she felt her mouth fall into an oval at the sincerity of his words. 

“I… I didn’t use to. Now I’m an ‘uninnocent’.” Marinette said with a self-deprecating smile. 

“You might be one of the most innocent people I’ve ever met. I’ll fix this for you and if I need to, I’ll marry you.  _ Happily _ .” She gaped at him and said nothing. His face was determined, his mouth set into a tight line and his brow furrowed. Somehow though, his eyes were kind and warm like sun-soaked leaves of a tree. 

It was the determined face of the cat who had demanded her name at her first ball and it sent her mind spinning. 

  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> By popular request, I drowned the Roths in the sims. It's on my tumblr- enjoy!!!
> 
> Also, Adrien is such a sweet precious angel who just wants to help and it makes me want to wrap him in a blanket and feed him soup. Or maybe write a chapter where Marinette wraps him in a blanket and feeds him soup. Anyways, hope you enjoy this chapter!
> 
> Edit: I want to incorporate Kagami into this fic but I don't know how T-T. If you have any ideas I'd love to hear them!


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Adrien makes his choice.

Adrien found it impossible to sleep that night. After laying in bed, eyes squeezed shut, for what seemed like hours he finally gave up on rest and started pacing the thick carpet in his bedroom. His mind was churning with solutions to Marinette’s dilemma. The most obvious solution was marrying her and truly, he would be happy to do it. But, he was hesitant. For the past year and a half, he had been searching for the ladybug who’d flown away before he’d even gotten her name. If he married Marinette- 

He would never be able to marry her. Drinking from the Thames would be a more pleasurable experience than never seeing her again, or worse, seeing her and being unable to have her. Not that he would ever disclose this to Marinette, she was too kind and sweet that she’d refuse to marry him if she knew. And, he reasoned, there was a chance that the woman he’d met that night was married, or wouldn’t even remember him. Marinette was a good friend, they would have an amicable marriage. Perhaps he would never feel for her the same way he did for his ladybug, but he certainly had grown to care for her since they’d met. 

But… still, a little part of his mind whispered that by helping Marinette he was throwing away any chance of a life with the girl he truly believed was his soulmate. 

He poured himself a glass of brandy and downed it in one gulp. He couldn’t help but feel selfish. Not helping a friend because of his own feelings? It sounded like something his father would encourage him to do. 

* * *

The breakfast table that morning was uncomfortable. He was exhausted, Alya and Nino were staring at him and Marinette, and Marinette- she looked like she wanted to sink into the floor. He was preparing to head back to his room and work on letters to his estate when Nino caught his arm. 

“Adrien, can I talk to you for a minute?” His friend had an uncharacteristically serious look. Adrien nodded and the two waited until Alya and Marinette had left the dining room. Nino leaned on one of the chairs, his body stiff. “I’m concerned about this situation between you and Marinette.”

Adrien rubbed the lower half of his face and blew out a long breath of air. “I said I was serious about marrying her Nino. I’m not going to hurt her.” 

Nino frowned. “I’m not questioning your honor, Adrien. You’re my best friend, and I  _ know you.  _ Maybe too well, since I know you’re in love with a mystery woman you’ve met only once. And I know about the situation with your father. I just- well- are you sure you’re ready to get into a lifelong commitment right now?”

A few uncomfortable moments of silence passed as Adrien tried to come up with an answer. He should be honest with Nino, tell him that he’d lain awake last night trying to figure that out himself. But Nino would do anything to protect his wife, and his wife would do anything to protect his sister. He didn’t want his friend to rule him out as an option for Marinette when he was only confused. “I know what marriage entails. I’ll probably never see the woman again- I met her at your marriage party you know. It’s been two seasons. And as for my father- I won’t be as selfish as him.” 

More awkward silence. When his friend finally spoke his voice was hushed. “Marinette wasn’t always this withdrawn, you know. She used to light up every room she walked into. When Alya and I were courting she was bright and curious, and full of more energy than Alya.” He took a deep breath. “She’s been hurt, Adrien. I’m- well, Alya and I are afraid that if these next months go poorly that she’ll never go back to who she was before.” 

Adrien tried to imagine Marinette as he described. Her unparalleled kindness and strength made his description easy to believe. “What happened? Who hurt her so severely?” 

“She won’t say much. But I know she made an enemy some time ago that almost ruined her reputation. Just- please be careful Adrien.” 

Adrien made up his mind at that moment. He had an undeniable urge to protect the woman who’d stayed with him during a storm and seemed to doubt herself at every turn. “On my honor Nino-  _ my honor-  _ I won’t let anything else happen to her. I’ll find a bishop today, get the license. She’ll be protected by my name.” 

Nino eyed him skeptically for a second, then relaxed. “I’m trusting you Noir. If you bugger this one up, you’ll have my wife to answer to and trust me- she’s more terrifying than hell when she’s angry.” 

Adrien gave him a polite nod and took his leave without another word. He had a bishop to hunt down. His heart hurt at the possibility of losing his Ladybug forever, but he knew he would never forgive himself if he allowed Marinette’s life to be destroyed after what Roth had done. If he ever wanted to look in the mirror again, he knew the choice he had to make. 

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm too tired to write an author's note right now but I'll respond to your comments to make up for it :) Have a happy Friday!


	8. Chapter 8

“Miss Dupain-Cheng. You have a visitor.” 

Marinette looked up quickly at Wayzz, the butler of the house. He displayed no reaction in his wrinkled face, his mouth drawn up so tightly that his lips had disappeared. A shimmer of anxiousness stirred in her gut, her visitors this week had been especially unfortunate. “Did they say who they were?” 

“A miss Tikki LaChance, I believe miss.” 

She bolted up from her seat. “Send her in!” She made no effort to hide the excitement in her voice. Tikki had been away, visiting her father in France for a month, and Marinette missed her dreadfully. The elderly butler slowly made his way back into the hall and she couldn’t help but fidget. 

A flash of red bounced into the room and she was engulfed in a bone-crushing hug. “Mademoiselle! Oh, you are as _charmante_ as ever! But what are you still doing in London?” 

Marinette wiggled her way out of the tiny redheads grasp. “It’s a long story I’m afraid.” 

“You must tell me everything while I fix your hair. What monster did this to you- ah, don’t tell me- it was Trixx. I know from the braids.” Tikki reached up and removed the bonnet Marinette was wearing, attempting to sculpt the dark strands until she was satisfied. “So? Tell me everything. Was  _ the Italian  _ there? Did you meet any men?” 

Marinette blushed. “Well, actually…”

“Oh! You did! Finally, someone sees through those  _ atroce  _ lies. Tell me, is he smart? Handsome?” 

“Tikki, slow down! You’re talking so fast I can barely understand you. I’ll have to start from the beginning I suppose.” 

* * *

“Bastard!”

“Tikki, please!” Marinette gasped at her maid’s sudden curse. 

“I am sorry, Marinette. But I cannot believe he would come here and demand to take you away!” Tikki had declared Marinette’s hair acceptable halfway through her retelling of the night in the library and was now sitting across from her on the sofa. The map of freckles across her face had now disappeared into her angry flush. 

“Well, Lord Noir..” Marinette tried to ignore the way Tikki’s eyes brightened at the mention of him. “... He claimed that we were engaged. Now I suppose we’re getting married, although I don’t know when. Alya said that he’s already written to my father for permission.” 

“Very romantic!” Tikki gushed. “And does he know that it was you he met at the ball?” Marinette averted her gaze and said nothing. Tikki gasped. “Marinette, what is the matter with you!” 

“I don’t know, Tikki. Things have been happening so fast and I’ve barely seen him. He talked to me once to tell me that he had procured a special license, and it didn’t seem like the right time.” 

“What about the library?” 

“I froze. Now I’m afraid he’ll be angry at me for keeping it from him for so long.” Marinette’s hands knotted into her dress and she stared out the window to avoid the redhead’s disappointed stare. 

“Oh, Marinette. I think you should tell him. Make it a beautiful declaration of love!” 

“That’s just it- we’re not marrying because of love. He’s marrying me to save me from a money-hungry lord or a life as a pariah.” Her nose started to sting and she sniffed. “Adrien doesn’t love me. He’s just being a gentleman.” It was a truth that had been haunting her all week. It seemed so unlucky that she was marrying the most attractive man in all of England and it was all because he felt sorry for her. 

Tikki placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder, turning Marinette to face her. Her large eyes held hers as she rubbed soothing circles on Marinette’s shoulder. “ Oh, ma chérie ami…  I’m sure everything will work out in the end.” 

Marinette blinked away the hot blurriness that had begun to form in her eyes. “I hope so Tikki. I’m lucky to be getting married at all anyways. Speaking of, I was hoping you might help me design a wedding gown?” 

Tikki’s eyes lit up. 

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Crying* y-you g-guys... i'm sorry.. i promise i'll u-u-update Dances with Dukes... I just like this story so much better!
> 
> Anyway, enjoy this short chapter. It's a little bit of a filler, but I promise that the next chapter will be more exciting. The wedding night is coming soon for all you sinners. I'm doing so much research on the wedding so I really hope that you all enjoy it!
> 
> another note: please look away as Tikki says "oh" three million times in this dialogue. Also, if you know french look away too, I took Latin so I have no clue if Tikki's french is right.


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The big day!

“Well, what do you think?” Marinette spun slowly, showing off the gown to her mother. Alya and Tikki, who had already seen the gown sat in a chaise next to them. 

Sabine smiled. “You look so beautiful! And this dress- how did you ever afford so much lace?” She brushed her fingers over the intricate lace on her daughter’s sleeve. 

“All she had to do was throw around the word Agreste and shop owners practically threw themselves at her feet!” Alya laughed. 

Marinette’s head whipped around to face her sister. “ _You_ are the one who threw around the Agreste name, as you so eloquently put it. All I wanted was to buy some fabric.” 

Alya shrugged, her shoulders shaking a bit from containing her laughter. “I did what had to be done.” 

“Well, I’m glad you were able to get such a beautiful design. If I didn’t know how talented you were, I wouldn’t have believed you and Tikki made it yourselves!” 

Marinette turned to admire the gown in the mirror. What had once been an old, ill-fitting silk gown of hers had been recrafted into the best dress she had ever designed. A layer of champagne-colored lace covered her arms and the bodice of her dress, which had been decorated with little golden beads. The waistline down was mostly the original dress, also a champagne color, the only addition being the line of lace she’d sewn onto the bottom of the skirt. She doubted many future duchesses had a reused gown for their wedding dress, but she hardly had time to find and meet with a better seamstress than Tikki. Marinette looked over at the lady’s maid who looked extremely satisfied. 

Sabine reached out and took both of her daughter’s hands in hers. “Both my daughters married- to gentlemen with titles! And handsome one's too...” The petite woman added with a sly smile. Marinette forced herself to smile back and kissed her mother on the cheek. This was precisely the reason why she didn’t tell her parents the real circumstances of her marriage, why rob them of any happiness?

Tikki stood. “We all should really head to the church now, as much as it would be _emblématique_ Marinette to be late to her own wedding.” 

________

“... In the name of the Father, Son, and Holy Ghost, amen.” Adrien finished. 

Lord Carapace smiled at him encouragingly. “See? You’ve got it memorized. You have nothing to worry about. 

“It’s different when I’m up there, in front of all of Marinette’s friends and family. All the public speaking at Eton couldn’t have prepared me for this.” Adrien said as he rubbed his jaw anxiously. 

“You’ll be fine. Besides, no one will dare judge the future Duke of Agreste. Even if you completely bumble the whole-” Nino cut himself short as Adrien frowned. “-Not that you will anyway. As I said, you memorized the whole thing.” 

Adrien took a deep breath. It would have been easier if there weren’t a baron and his son hellbent on stopping the marriage. Or if his father would actually respond to his letter declaring that he was marrying Marinette. “It’s almost half-past-nine. Should we get stationed?” 

Nino nodded. “Do you have the ring?” 

Adrien patted his pocket, making contact with the little box. “I have it.”

Nino grinned and stuck his gloved hands into the pockets of his dark green tailcoat. “Let’s get married, my friend.” 

Ten minutes later, Adrien adjusted his collar in front of the small group seated in the pews in front of him. He made eye contact with Chloe, who he knew was just trying to be supportive despite looking desperately bored. His valet, Plagg, was seated a row behind her looking similarly disengaged. 

Suddenly the little old man playing the organ switched the tune. Everyone’s gaze turned to the door as it opened for Alya and Tikki, who made their way down the aisle torturously slow. At last, he saw the giant figure of Mr. Dupain-Cheng appear in the doorway and Marinette… well, Marinette looked beautiful. Her dark hair was decorated in little white flowers that he’d forgotten the name of and her gown was made of a golden fabric that seemed to shimmer in the candlelight. She looked like she was glowing and most importantly, she looked happy. 

His chest swelled with pride that she was happy because of him. 

They finally reached the altar and the Vicar cleared his throat. “Dearly Beloved, we are…” 

Adrien caught Marinette’s gaze. “Hi,” He whispered. 

“Hi.” She smiled at him, and his heart skipped. Was it supposed to do that? She was just a friend. A friend he was marrying. 

“Therefore, if any man can show any just cause, why they may not lawfully be joined together, let him now speak, or else hereafter forever hold his peace,” the vicar said. Adrien held his breath and realized Marinette was holding her too. Now was the time for any misbehavior the Roth’s might have planned. 

The vicar was silent for a minute, his small eyes scrutinizing the crowd for any kind of dissent, and continued the ceremony. They both released the breath they’d been holding and locked eyes once more. 

“Lord Adrien Noir, wilt thou have this Woman to thy wedded Wife, to live together after God’s ordinance in the holy estate of Matrimony? Wilt thou love her, comfort her, honour, and keep her in sickness and in health; and, forsaking all other, keep thee only unto her, so long as ye both shall live?” 

“Are you sure?” Marinette whispered. 

Adrien turned to the vicar. “I will.” 

“Marinette Dupain-Cheng, wilt thou have this Man to thy wedded Husband, to live together after God’s ordinance in the holy estate of Matrimony? Wilt thou obey him, and serve him, love, honour, and keep him in sickness and in health; and, forsaking all other, keep thee only unto him, so long as ye both shall live?” 

“Will I? I mean you will. No- yes, I will!” He restrained a chuckle as she turned an adorable shade of crimson.

Marinette’s father placed her hand in Adrien’s. Adrien reached into his pocket and pulled out the ring. 

* * *

Good lord. That was a diamond. Marinette watched in awe as Adrien handed it to the vicar, who slid it onto her left hand. She looked back at Adrien, who had been looking at her reaction the whole time. The corner of his mouth twitched upwards and he looked satisfied and almost... relieved. 

Adrien placed his hand over hers, holding the ring into place. His fingers ignited an electric current through her hand and she blushed. It was really happening. His thumb rubbed a slow, relaxing circle in the palm of her hand. 

“With this ring, I thee wed.” 

She couldn’t meet his gaze. It was getting hard not to imagine that they were in love, that they would be together in the way she’d dreamed about the first night they’d met. 

“With my body, I thee worship.” 

His thumb still massaged her hand and she focused on it, the action calming and exciting her all at once. 

“And with all my worldly goods, I thee endow.” 

She looked up at him and instantly regretted it. Was he staring the whole time? His eyes were so green and they were so close.. She wanted to kiss him, she realized with horror. 

“In the name of the Father, Son, and Holy Ghost. Amen.” 

She tuned out the rest of the ceremony. 

"….and by joining of hands; I pronounce that they be Man and Wife together.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> aaaaaaaaaa! Finally! I know I've been rapid-fire updating but I didn't think you guys would mind :) Happy Sunday!
> 
> Edit: if you want to laugh at my pain, i posted a one shot about a cat pun that made me want to punch myself in the face.


	10. Chapter 10

The inside of the house bustled with partygoers and servants carrying silver trays of sweets. It was a startling contrast to the quiet and homey atmosphere the house usually held. Marinette was immediately greeted by several different people upon entering the ballroom, most of whom had never even spoken to her before. Her nose crinkled as she realized the woman currently crooning over the beauty of her dress was the same girl whom she’d overheard gossiping about her just months before. She plastered a smile on her face, smashing down any desire to call the young woman out. There was no point in revenge. 

Although the crowd probably knew that Adrien and Marinette hadn’t married for love, Adrien nevertheless tried to sell the idea constantly. Whether it was for his benefit or for hers, she had no clue, but he was glued to her side. Was he embarrassed that he’d married for convenience? Whatever his reasons, he was so believable that she almost fell for the way he whispered in her ear or the way his eyes held her face a second longer than necessary. 

The next hour passed in a whirlwind of dancing, introductions, and champagne. Her parents looked happily engaged in a conversation with Commander Raincomprix, and her sister was stuffing her face full of the eclairs their father had baked for the wedding. (She explained it away as pregnancy cravings later). She was watching Tikki dance with a strange man in all black and green when Adrien touched her shoulder to get her attention. 

“Marinette? I’d like to introduce my friend, Lady Bourgeois.” She turned and looked at the woman, taking a sharp breath in surprise when she recognized the woman’s face. 

“Oh, we’ve already met!” The two blondes stared at her, puzzled, and she realized her mistake. Marinette didn’t meet Lady Bourgeois, Ladybug did. “Wait, no! I, um, meant you just looked familiar.” 

Lady Bourgeois laughed. “Of course I look familiar. I’m the gem of every season, and a personal friend of the king.” 

Adrien grimaced beside her. “Your father is a personal friend of The King, Chloe. And you really need to stop introducing yourself with that. ” 

The woman shrugged. Marinette relaxed as the conversation was successfully diverted from her mistake. She would have to be more careful around that night. If there was a time for Adrien to know, it wasn’t now. 

The same man she saw Tikki dancing with earlier approached the two of them once Lady Bourgeois had wandered off. He was dressed in all black, with slick black hair and green eyes even brighter than Adrien’s. She realized that he’d mostly approached Adrien as opposed to the two of them, so she picked up a glass of champagne and tried to avert her focus anywhere other than the quiet muttering between the pair. It was impossible to hear what they were saying with the conversation and music in the room, but the way Adrien’s lips pressed together gave Marinette a feeling it was something serious. Adrien turned to her, concern etched into his face. Her stomach dropped with the realization that whatever news he’d received was meant for her too. 

“We need to talk somewhere more private, “ he whispered. 

She agreed and allowed him to pull her into one of the parlor rooms to the side. His hand rested at her waist and she could feel the heat of his palm through her dress. His voice was quiet and careful when he spoke. 

“Bob Roth is dead.”

A chill ran down her spine at the thought of the old man. Was she happy that he was gone? A guilty feeling started to ache in her chest, but she shook it off. Now wasn’t the time to question her morality. “How?”

“In his sleep, I believe. It happened this afternoon.”

“And Xavier?” She asked. 

“Unfortunately alive. And now a baron with much more power. Not that it will affect you now, as a marchioness.” 

That  _ was _ the whole point of the marriage, wasn’t it? It was hard to remind herself of that while his thumb made lazy circles around her side. 

“We should get back to the party,” she said. “It is for us, after all.”

Adrien hummed in agreement. “It would probably be best if we didn’t show that anything was wrong.” His hand still on her side, he drew her back out into the ball. Thankfully, no one had noticed their disappearance and they slipped back into a casual conversation with Alya and Nino. Alya’s hand rested on her almost flat stomach as she talked, and Marinette remembered that her parents still were unaware of their upcoming grandchild. 

“Alya,” she said, her voice lowered. “When are you going to tell mama and papa about the baby?” 

Her sister smiled. “They’re staying at Carapace house until Wednesday. I figured once you two lovebirds leave for your honeymoon, I’d tell them at dinner.” 

Adrien coughed, narrowing his eyes at Alya. Marinette turned to her husband. “We’re going on a honeymoon? I thought we were just going to your estate?” 

The tips of his ears turned red and he shrugged. “It was supposed to be a surprise.” 

Her stomach fluttered. His desire to surprise her and make her happy made her insides feel light and bubbly as if her feet could float right off the floor. It wasn’t often she had this feeling, but strangely enough, it only seemed to happen around him. “Where are we going?” 

“At least allow me that surprise. If the lovely Lady Carapace can withstand keeping  _ this _ secret.” His eyes flicked amusedly to her sister, who looked as unapologetic as a fox emerging from the henhouse. 

“A hint?” She pleaded, her curiosity piqued. 

Adrien grinned and shook his head. She sighed, imagining all the places they might go. She knew he’d spent time in the continent, even in Asia, but he could just as well be taking her in the opposite direction towards Ireland. He was so well-traveled that he probably had acquaintances in every country in Europe. 

The conversation drifted away from the honeymoon, and Marinette accepted that there was no way to guess where they were going. She mingled with the guests- most of them were friends of her family. Really, the only guests of her husband’s were Lord Bourgeoisie and his daughter. The thought felt awkward. Was Adrien ashamed of the marriage? It was hard to believe that the charming, attractive marquis had no friends to invite to the party. Still, the assumption that Adrien was ashamed of her didn’t fit. He made every effort to be around her, they were friends, and her intuition told her that perhaps no one in his family was invited. The late Lord Roth had poked at family dissonance with the Duke of Agreste, perhaps that was the reason. 

Whatever it was, Marinette came away with the impression that perhaps Adrien was lonelier than she thought.

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! An update on my life, I'm back in college and we've only just finished syllabus week when it gets cancelled for Hurricane Dorian. #Just Florida Things. I've been really busy with life (The apartment I was supposed to rent had black mold in it. yay florida). so sorry about the wait. I have another chapter already ready after this one, but I won't put it out until the chapter after that is finished. 
> 
> Also, I didn't edit this because tbh I'm doing this at 2am, and tomorrow I have to go lay sandbags. 
> 
> I miss you all and your comments! Follow me on tumblr and be my friend, I have no friends in the ML fandom :(


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The wedding night doesn't go exactly as Marinette had planned.

The small trio of musicians played their finals notes, and suddenly all eyes in the room were on the newlyweds. Marinette shifted uncomfortably on her heels. They were supposed to be the first to leave, everyone would watch them get into the coach and drive off towards assumed marital bliss. Walking out the door was a simple task, but suddenly the eyes of the crowd and the sense that she was walking off into the next chapter of her life imbued her with nervousness.   
She doubted that Adrien was nervous too, and if he was he didn’t show it. His hand was steady at the small of her back as he guided her through the watching crowd. Her family waited for her at the door, her mother beaming and her father teary-eyed. She kissed her father on the cheek, stretching up onto the tips of her toes to reach his face. Tom Dupain responded by drawing her into a tight hug that threatened to unlace her stays. Her mother hugged her as well, whispering something into her ear that was so improper Marinette’s ears burned. Ayla looked smug, the rise of her left brow making her look devious. She said her farewells to them all, not knowing how long it would be before she would be back. For all she knew, Adrien was taking her away to the jungles of South America. 

It was really time to go now. Her eyes rested on the large black traveling coach that waited for them in the street. The silver crest of Adrien’s family glinted on the door. Her eyes drifted to the team of six horses at the front. Marinette had never been rich nor poor, but it hadn’t occurred to her how rich her husband was until the massive display of the coach.

“I figured the more pompous we were publically, the less brazen Roth would be,” he said quietly at her side. “It’s all a lot of nonsense to me, Chloe recommended the town coach and all the horses. Are you ready?” 

She nodded, the footman drawing open the door. Adrien helped her in and soon was seated next to her. The inside was as luxurious as the outside, with soft, padded seats and thick black curtains that covered the window. 

“Where are we going?” 

“My townhome, just for the night. It’s in St. James’s, although I’m afraid it’s quite a small bachelor’s lodging.” 

“But- that’s only a few minutes away! Why have you been staying at Carapace house?” 

He turned to her, one eyebrow quirked upwards as he smiled softly. “You asked me to stay with you Marinette, remember?” The words crashed into her. He was right. She’d forgotten about her plea to him in the kitchen on that dreadful night, just assuming that he had stayed out of convenience. She leaned back into her seat, her heart feeling like it was exploding. 

A fierce battle was waging between her head and her heart. The rational side of her knew that he had married her to protect her. But her heart, the foolish organ that had fallen in love with him so many nights ago pounded back in protest. 

He didn’t have to protect you, it said. He went out of his way, he stayed with you this whole time because you asked him too. 

It was nothing more than kindness and maybe pity, her sense argued. Loving him, entertaining these notions of romance will only hurt you. 

It wouldn’t just hurt her. It would break her. It was already painful enough to be married to the man she believed to be her soulmate. He had shown no hint of romantic interest in her, other than what could be played off a gentlemanly kindness. She couldn’t allow herself to fantasize about the life she wished to have with him, the marriage she wanted with him. What she had was too painfully close to her deepest desires. 

“Are you alright?” Blue eyes snapped up to meet green. Adrien was staring at her with concern. How long had she been lost in thought? 

“Um, yes.” 

His eyebrow twitched. “Well, we’re here.” 

Marinette looked out the window of the coach and rolled her eyes. The townhome took up half of the block. “I thought you said it was a small bachelor lodging,” she said as she turned to face him in disbelief. 

“I haven’t spent a lot of time here anyway. It's not in the most reputable part of town, so I’d understand if you’d want another place in Mayfair.” He was right, she could see a number of gentlemen’s clubs on the street adjacent. Maybe he gambled, she thought, grasping at anything that could convince her heart to stop its pining.

The footman opened the door and Adrien exited first as to help her on her step down. She could see the building clearly now. It was larger than her sisters, but Carapace was always lit up and inviting, fires in every room and candles in all of the front-facing windows. This house seemed… cold. It was made of beige stone, stretching up four stories high and symmetrically ornamented with large, square windows. The neatness felt wrong to someone who’s grown up in an asymmetrical brick country home, splattered with windows of different shapes and sizes and painted with ivy. 

The inside was mostly dark, and only three servants greeted her at the door. The rooms were eloquently furnished, but most furniture had been covered with a sheet. She looked at her husband, her brow furrowed. 

“I didn’t see any need to open the house. I don’t host much company.” His hands slid into his pockets and she noticed that the tips of his ears were pink. She felt bad, understanding now why he was so willing to live at carapace house. He turned away, talking to the servants- a butler, a cook, and a maid. She studied him as his focus was elsewhere. He had seemed so bright, so happy and flirtatious in public, but this was a new, lonelier side.   
Adrien turned to her. “Frank is making us dinner, we can eat it in our chambers.” 

“Our chambers?” She repeated. 

“I only have one bedroom open. If you’re not comfortable…” 

She shook her head. “No. It’s just new. I won’t mention it again.” Her gaze dropped down to the floor and she studied the pattern of the carpet at her feet. 

Adrien dismissed the staff. His boots stepped into her gaze and he lifted her face up to meet his. “Marinette, we don’t have to do this.” 

“Yes we do,” she said with a sigh. “We’re married.” 

“We don’t have to do it right away. We’re both tired, and after what you been through..” 

Her throat grew thick as the memories of his suggestion clawed their way back to the front of her mind. Hastily, she shoved them back into the pit she’s buried them in. But… Adrien was the only son of a duke. Wouldn’t he want an heir as soon as possible? “Are you sure?” She asked. 

His hand rubbed the back of his neck as he shifted on his feet. His nervousness around this difficult conversation comforted her, for whatever strange reason. “I won’t need to worry about heirs just yet. I think we should wait.” 

______

Adrien didn’t have the courage to tell her why he really wanted to wait before consummating the marriage. But- once the idea occurred to him it was too perfect to pass up. Marinette would have the protection of his name for as long as she needed, and if his lady ever resurfaced the marriage had technically never been fulfilled. He’d buy Marinette a house, maybe two and let her life comfortably wherever she desired. 

In his opinion, it was the solution to making them both happy. Marinette would be protected and he would have the pleasure of making her happy. And then they would go their separate ways. 

They ate dinner together and retired to separate bedrooms early. Adrien was quick to bed in preparation for their travel tomorrow. He imagined Marinette in the next room, sleeping under piles of blankets and couldn’t help but smile at the image. She was under his protection, and he’d be lying to say that it didn't inflate his chest. 

He fell asleep smoothly, without troubles, his mind sinking down into the inky depths of his consciousness. A woman with dark hair in a scarlet dress was turned away from him, her pale shoulder glowing under the soft lighting of his dreams. He knew instantly that it was his lady, he would never be able to forget the feel of her presence or the warmth that spread through his chest at her proximity. 

He called to her and she turned, her long dark lashes hanging coyly above her striking blue eyes. He saw her lips next, full and pink and swollen in the corner where she’d chewed on them. He realized she wasn’t wearing a mask, and excitedly his eyes scanned her face. A flash of lighting split between them and he cried out, falling backward into the misty blackness. When his gaze found her face again his heart stopped in shock. As quick and bold as the lightning his lady had been replaced by Marinette, who looked… almost exactly the same. He blinked. His lady was not replaced by Marinette… his lady was-“

His eyes opened, the face of his wife hanging over him. Her bottom lip was pulled between her teeth as she looked over him with concern. 

“Marinette”, he said, his voice rough from sleep. 

She took a step back, and for a second, he was disappointed. “You were crying out- I’m sorry for waking you.”

“Don’t be sorry. It looks to be nearly dawn anyway.” Was he really crying out in his sleep? He tried to recall what he had dreamt of, but the memories had dissolved back into his mind and become completely unretrievable.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AHHHH I'm sorry, college has been so stressful lately! Stats is literally KILLING ME- yikes. Anyways, I'm so frickin excited for chat blanc!!! I hope you all have a happy halloween (if you celebrate). More chapters on the way SOON because they're already written. :)


	12. Chapter 12

  
  
  


“So it’s somewhere on the continent,” said Marinette as the steamship began to chug slowly away from the harbor. They stood together on the back of the massive boat, watching the waves crash against the hull. 

Her curiosity delighted him. He turned to look at her with a rakish smirk and glint in his eye. “What makes you say that?” 

“We’re on a boat,” she said with a gesture at their surroundings. 

“Indeed.”

“Crossing the English Channel.” 

“Correct.” She rocked back on her heels and the tips of her boots peaked out slightly from under her dress. 

“So where are we going?” Marinette asked in a way that sounded more like a demand than a question. 

“Are you sure you want to know?” Another well-practiced smirk and eye twinkle. Her nose crinkled up in frustration and she nodded vigorously. “All right. Paris.” 

“Paris?” It was his turn to nod now. Admittedly he was a bit nervous, he wanted her to like their destination. He’d planned this all for her enjoyment, a distraction from past events and a personal experiment on what it would take to make her truly happy. He wanted to be a good friend to her, most of all. 

“Do you like it?” Adrien asked tentatively. 

She smiled, her eyes twinkling and putting all of his practiced charismatic expressions to shame. The moments of sunshine she shared with him were radiant. Her smiles were beams of light peeking through overcast meekness. “I’ve always wanted to go to Paris. I’ve read a lot about their fashion and textiles.” 

Her approval won, he relaxed. Lady Carapace had said her sister would like Paris, but the possibility of her hating the city made him anxious. Marinette was turned away from him now, her small nose just barely visible as she faced the breeze. Her hat hid her hair, but he pictured her dark hair being whipped around in the wind. It was peaceful, far different from what he’d imagined marriage to be like. 

Maybe consummating the marriage wasn’t as bad idea as he thought. 

* * *

  
  


The towers of the Notre Dame stretched up so high that the birds swooping around the spire were just tiny specks against the sky. Marinette had to squint to try and see all of the details of the giant cathedral. Adrien stood by her side and she occasionally saw him stare at her from the corner of her eye.  _ Do I have something on my face? _ She wondered. 

They had only been in Paris for an hour, only passing the Notre Dame on a short walk from their hotel to a restaurant. Adrien had been more talkative than she had ever seen him, pointing out his favorite places from when he studied here and telling animated stories about his time in the city. His eyes were bright as he talked and she could tell that his love for the city was genuine. 

The restaurant was small, its candlelight spilling onto the street as the daylight started to wane. They were tucked away in a corner on a glass table so small that Adrien’s legs bumped against hers. Her ankle hooked reflexively around his, her own shoes attempting to pull him closer to her. If he noticed, he didn’t show it, and she quickly drew her feet under her chair. She blamed the constantly flowing champagne. 

The first course was so delicious that Marinette wished she could taste everything on the menu. Adrien whispered something to the waiter, and before she knew what was happening the small table was covered in dishes. Marinette looked at Adrien in disbelief. He shrugged in reply. 

“How on earth are we going to eat all of this food?” She asked, her mouth-watering as the smell of duck confit drifted into her nose. 

“It’s all in tasting portions,” said Adrien as he stuck his fork into some sort of souffle. “That way you can have one of each” 

Marinette wanted to argue, but it would have been hard to debate while her mouth was filled with food. Whatever worries she’d held that the food would be too much were far behind her- honestly, she was worrying if the food would even be enough. She looked across the table at Adrien, who, instead of impolitely shoveling forkfuls of vegetables in his mouth, picked slowly at his plate. 

“Aren’t you hungry?” She asked, watching Adrien push a zucchini around his plate. 

His eyebrows twitched upwards and he paused for a moment as if considering what he was going to say. She doubted she would have noticed the pause if she hadn’t been studying him. When her husband spoke, he was cool and relaxed. “I didn’t want to get in your way. Once I start eating the food from here it’s impossible for me to stop.” 

He told it like a joke, so she forced a little giggle. But it offset her, seeing Adrien rant about the quality of the food and then seem to eat it as reluctantly as a toddler eating vegetables. 

After dinner, with Marinette rather concerned that she would burst at the seams any second, the two walked quietly among the seine. The lights from the buildings around them reflected off the water, showing the gentle movement of the near-black river. It was romantic- not that it mattered of course- Marinette assured herself that her desire to reach out and grab his hand was merely the result of a temporary girlhood crush. 

Their fingers hung inches apart. She didn’t think Adrien was aware of the closeness, he seemed too busy pointing out aspects of the cityscape around them. At one point the pad of her pinky brushed accidentally against his knuckles. The touch was instantly electric and she curled her hand inwards. Again, he didn’t seem to notice or care, and Marinette wondered if French food made women suddenly… wanting. And after all the time analyzing the pinky incident, she gasped aloud when his hand suddenly grasped hers in a bone-crushing grip. 

She turned to him, drawing in a breath to question him when she realized he was staring straight ahead, the muscles along his jaw drawn tense. She followed his line of sight to the poorly dressed man emerging from the shadows ahead of them. 

Adrien stepped forward and to the side, blocking Marinette from the stranger. She peered around him and recognized the silver glint of a knife.

The first man said something unintelligible and it took her a second to realize it was French. He spoke again, repeating his first sentence. 

“ _ Do you speak French?”  _ the man asked. When Adrien nodded, he continued. “ _ Pass over everything valuable and no one needs to get hurt.”  _

“He means to rob us.” 

_ I know _ , she thought, but she said nothing. Instead, she reached into the folds of her dress, finding the small purse she had filled with almost all of the money she had saved before her marriage, most of it was English currency anyways. Regardless of how much money she had now as Lady Noir, she’d worked and saved for the spending money in her purse. Without drawing the purse out she grasped it tightly. 

Adrien had reached into his coat and pulled out a ten-pound note in the meantime. He held it outstretched towards the robber. The man turned his squinty gaze to Marinette. 

“ _ And what about the lady?”  _ He asked, a hint of a smile showing his rotting teeth. 

“ _ I have nothing”  _ she responded in French without thinking. Adrien glanced at her, surprised. The man started forward. Adrien was completely in front of her now, blocking her. 

_ “Don’t touch her”  _ He growled. His hand flexed and Marinette realized in horror that the interaction could quickly become violent. The knife the man had was almost as her forearm. Marinette pulled the coin purse from the folds of her dress, extending it out from behind Adrien. The robber, instead of just taking her purse, grabbed her wrist and yanked her roughly towards him. Her body smacked against her husband as she was pulled and she cried out at the impact. 

_ “Looks like the pretty lady might be worth more than the purse.”  _ He said, pressing the knife against her throat. His rancid breath was hot on her neck and she felt her chest go tight in panic. Not again, she thought, reliving how it felt to have an unwanted man pressed against her. She looked at Adrien, whose eyes were wide with panic. 

“ _ I have money.”  _ He said, stepping towards them. “ _ At my home, just a block away.”  _ He took another step and Marinette felt the blade press tighter against her neck, its touch starting to sting.

The man laughed. “ _ She is worth something. How about I keep her with me until you can bring back the coin?”  _

The tightness in her chest was unbearable now, and she could hear her heartbeat racing in her ears. The thought of being alone with him- she would risk anything to avoid it. With a sudden movement, she slammed the heel of her walking boot back into her captor’s shins. He cringed, the knife scratching across her neck as he jumped back. Marinette swung the coin purse in her hand but she missed, instead the coins were flung onto the street. The man, enraged, threw her into down onto the bricks. 

She closed her eyes as she fell, her elbows hitting roughly onto the stone. She heard the smack of flesh, and grunts of pain. She looked up in time to see Adrien swing a punch that knocked the man to the ground. The scene was so familiar, she could have laughed. 

Adrien crouched beside her, scooping her up into his arms. “Marinette- Marinette- are you hurt?” He asked frantically, his hands sliding up and down her sides. He swore when he saw the faint scratch at her throat. 

She nodded. “We’ve got to stop getting into these situations,” She said dryly. 

He didn’t laugh. “When I saw the knife at your throat..” 

“I’m fine. Just a scratch, I promise.” She gave him a small smile. He helped her to her feet, refusing to let her go. 

“I swore to protect you. I won’t…” The bulge at his throat bobbed as he swallowed, and Marinette realized how close his face was to hers. Her heart still pounding, she stretched up on her toes, pressing her lips against his cheek. It was foolish- she never should have allowed herself to do it. He blushed immediately and she couldn’t bring herself to regret it. She would deal with her heart later. 

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! A little action in this chapter. I have a fun surprise for Marinette next chapter that I'm super excited about. How is everyone? ;P Also, I'm still pretty active on tumblr if you want to talk! If you're interested in helping me edit and giving me feedback message me on there and I can add you to the google doc with the story! Hope you all have a wonderful week!


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